Vastness
by Ayase Reincarnated
Summary: It is just us on our own today, and the truce we've struck up is very flimsy. But I will be damned if I'm staying behind this time. No OC's, maybe a bit OOC. Probably not something you want to read.


_**Vastness**_

**This is a warning:** _Vent fic, pulling it straight from the depths of my ass. It probably makes zero sense and I can understand if it pisses you off. I am using forms that I have used before for the characters, so you might recognize them from past oneshots. Sorry for any OOC.  
_

**This is a disclaimer:** _Kusari (myself) does not own Bleach, nor will he ever. He does not even own the rights to a single character. Believe you me, if he did, shit would hit the fan._

**This is a summary: **_I will follow you into the void._

* * *

His disturbing eyes rest, fixed upon me, unable to focus on any other point in this vastly open wasteland better known as the soulscape. Black pupils resting in the middle of goldish-yellow irises swimming in a sea of yet more blackness. They can only be identified as the eyes of a Hollowfied being and behind them lies nothing but malign intent. Belonging to a brain only concerned with self preservation and absolute dominance. With no thought for the 'Master' of this body at all. For he and I are but two thirds of the whole with the final third being the one in control. I have always been content with this arrangement. The myth-esque beast who's standing is opposite of mine will never come to accept it.

It isn't my place to protest against his discomfort or to side with the one fronting our three-man-band. Nor should I validate his hatred and loathing with words of encouragement. Rather, it is my task to remain in the middle and simply wait for a command to come. I am but a sword spirit without my own physical form outside of the soulscape. And he is what they call an Inner Hollow. Merely the manifestation of evil inside of the soul of a once-pure Shinigami soldier. I use the term soldier loosely because Soul Society doesn't exist solely to wage war on every species that exists.

I've been assigned a named since creation, which I have kept since the day the Master came into existence. Zanpakutos are born with a Soul Reaper and their spirits die along with them. Our physical blades may not always disintegrate into reiatsu particles but the things we call our souls always do. The body of our Shinigami is often left to be dealt with by the outside world, generally be cremation. Burned into nothingness. With only ashes left behind of what used to be human form. I am not scared of that day. But my equal...seems petrified by the very idea of no longer existing.

He and I are like siblings here on this plane of the mind but also opposite equals. Light and dark, if you think about the classic cliche. Who is light? Who is dark? Morality is a fragile subject and most would proclaim us sword spirits as light as a byproduct of that. Inner Hollows are always viewed by outsiders as pure evil beings that must be vanquished. I try not to judge him on the bias of others because I do not always agree with this line of thinking. We have shared a 'home' here on the soulscape for over a century so I have come to know this beast better than any other can proclaim. The things I observe are not always beautiful yet not always sinister either. He is what he is: the mirror reflection of the host.

Our 'host', our Master, is a good individual most of the time. I have always known him even before he knew me. Shinigami start off usually as human beings, or rather dead souls of human beings, living in the Rukongai. Unaware that they have any extra-spiritual abilities. They grow up if they're lucky enough not to be killed by Hollows and may discover their potential in time. The sword spirits such as myself sit and watch. We wait for the perfect point in time to reveal our forms and names to the Shinigami who wield our blades. It is almost difficult to recall when that moment was for the Master and myself. But it is no longer important because there is a stable enough understanding between us. I've kept my eye on his progress for centuries and what I have seen is pleasing, though it has slowed a bit from his younger days. Souls age slowly and thus sometimes progress takes a long time to advance.

But the Master and my 'darker' counterpart do not have such an understanding or agreement to coexist in peace. Sometimes his strength and abilities are made useful to the host if combat becomes too rough. And even then it is always a major risk to call upon that white mask symbolizing an Inner Hollow. There is always a chance that something will slip and everything that's been built up will crumble and collapse. I have watched with awe and disdain at points in the past where everything did fracture. Back when he first came unwillingly aboard this train, making the preexisting duo of myself and the Master a trio.

Those dark eyes that were previously fixated on my small form have since darted off into the vastness. Now focusing on some invisible figure up in the cloudless sky that takes up most of the space on this plane. Wings stretch above his head, black and tan feathers ruffling with each joint flexing. It as if he is preparing to fly off into this never ending abyss. He always finds his way back after flying about for spans of hours. The light in here never changes unless willed by the Master so I cannot equate the lengths of time I am alone to where the sun is in the sky. There is no sun, no moon. No clouds, no stars. It isn't extremely bright here nor is it exceptionally dark. We live in a constant state of medium.

Flexible avian toes tipped with sharp, but not raptor-tier deadly, talons also shift and move as if this bird monster is getting ready for lift off. He must be planning to take another solitary flight to think and reflect on the awful situation with which he is constantly faced. Following would be an incredibly ill-advised idea but this time it was my intention. To run across the semi-loose sandy ground leading from this oasis under the feathered flier above. Chasing his shadow over the floor as it speeds ahead. Of course, my small vulpine legs are not strong enough to keep us with his streamlined self. But this time it mattered not.

A flapping of wings is all it took and he has taken off from his perch on a high branch on the only tree. My eyes marvel at the wonder of flight for a second before my brain registers that it is time to give chase. The lag time between his launching and my realization has allowed for him to put a fair amount of distance between us. Not enough to detour me. I'll run in pursuit of my companion all day so as to keep up with him this time. He's taken notice of my shadowing yet hasn't made an effort to lose me. Strange.

Without wind to give a flight boost to the bird it is a wonder how he can even stay airborne for very long. The laws of physics are different here within the soulscape so questioning this phenomenon is fruitless. He is able to push on for hours without tiring so it is assumed that my body can manage the same. Except I run on four legs and he flies with wings while maneuvering with his tail. Our anatomy is so different yet also so fascinating. Animals on the outside function just the same. Though they are not all able to maintain flight for endless periods of time or run for miles without a rest.

"Persist all you want. There will be no conversation between us."

The indifferent tone grabbed my attention immediately and it nearly wavered my stride. His acknowledgement of my presence in itself was a definite change of pace from the atmosphere back at the oasis. This is why I hesitate in calling monsters like these dark. And I use the term monster not in a negative way but just as another term for being. Inner Hollows are looked upon as monsters due to myths about slightly similar types of things that commit horrid, unspeakable acts. Worse than anything he has yet to do.

"I understand. Carry on, then."

Not even a downwards glance to validate my statement. He merely flew on as if there was no rift of disagreement between us. Neutral on the fact that sword spirits and Inner Hollows are polar opposites and generally do not cohabit well. If the general population of Soul Society could watch this performance for themselves then maybe their perception of these animals would alter. Probably not. Eons of same thinking would not be wavered by the display of one Hollow being in reaction to something like me. At the end of the day Central 46 considered all like him to be an equal threat to everything they had established.

My shadowing of my counterpart could be taken as creepy, aggressive, or awkward by some. Those that know both myself and the last third of the trio, which is all of eight people, may be taken aback by this happening seeing as how it is the first instance of nonviolence between us. And judging from the scar I left on his neck over 365 days ago they'd be right to be bewildered. Such a shift in attitude between us for just this once would be enough to throw anyone off. But can a pair of enemies not get along even for just one brief stint of a few hours when on neutral territory?

A sudden burst of mist-like fog that lasted all of three seconds startled me and I tripped on my own front paws, screeching to a halt a few feet away. But I was able to recover fairly fluidly and settled into a trotting pace. The only present issue is that my travel companion completely vanished from sight. That was...until there was a crashing of feathers and weight against my form and I was pinned to the desert-like dirt. His dark eyes were the first thing I noticed when I'd recovered my senses. They were particularly intense as he stared straight to my core. He had seemingly changed from paradise crow form to gryphon form in a heartbeat. That must have been what the mist burst was.

"What business is it of yours to chase me like this?"

It was as if his mood had done a complete 180 degree flip. Obviously my guard should have been up and I should have been able to predict this. He is, after all, a very unpredictable being. Prone to sudden outbursts of either madness or instability. Very dangerous if provoked just right and even lethal on any given day. Here he now has me pinned on all sides to the sandy floor and the Master is not here to save me. Can't say I'm afraid exactly since there wasn't mindless malice laced in his body language. This merely seemed to be a pissed off inquisition instead of a murderous rage.

I could easily just respond politely and not rile him up at all. It was never my intention on this day to wage war against my cellmate in the middle of nowhere. Even now it is still not on my agenda to go all out on the defensive with the aim to 'take down the feathery menace.' But I need my personal space and I will do whatever I need to in order to get it. So my back legs tuck in close to my underside then spring forward, prying him off instantly and he is flung into the air. Back wings unfurl in time and he is able to recover flight before plummeting to the earth below. There is a sneer on his face that seems half-assed in response to my radical action. He does not dive down at me as expected but rather hovers in place.

"That was a cheap shot, bitch."

It is a hollow insult and the glare in his eyes is the opposite of wrathful. He hasn't even made an attempt to make his reaction seem menacing and that in itself is a wonder. There may have been an exchange of respect just now that has escaped my watch. Not even a change in his breathing or posture is visible so what just happened seemed like a test. Not even a threat display, merely a mock lunge. To test my recovery time and immediate reaction. Probably stemming off my surprise from when he first spoke of his intention to travel in silence. Exploitation of such a pitfall was a very clever move.

"We don't have all day ya know. Get your ass moving. I don't want to have to slow down in order for you to keep up with me!"

His moods change like the fickle wind and it registered in my brain as almost humorous. Taking it at face value was going to have to work this time but now I could be ready for whatever he were to try next. So I rose up back on all four paws, shaking the dirt from my pelt, and flicked my whip-style tail in response. Not responding with words seemed to have caught him by surprise and he flexed the talons on his front feet quickly. Turning back in his former direction, the gryphon took off once more. It only took a couple of seconds before my pace was enough to keep up with him again.

"Try not to get lost!"

For just today it would be mirror counterparts and a shaky true of respect. Winging through the sky was he, as I followed his shadow into the empty vastness of the soulscape. Two thirds of a whole soul.


End file.
